


the one in which a day-off is put to good use

by LadyMerlin



Series: Domestic Victuuri Week 2018 [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Day 3: Alone Time, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Victuuri Week 2018, Established Relationship, Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 04:43:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13333752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: If they don’t have sex right this very instant, they’re going to die of old age and/or exhaustion before they ever have sex again.





	the one in which a day-off is put to good use

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 3 of [Domestic Victuuri Week 2018](https://domesticvictuuriweek.tumblr.com/prompts): Alone Time

Viktor’s lips are on Yuuri’s the moment they walk through the front door. The kiss is deep and sweet, and Viktor’s hands are fisted tightly in the collar of Yuuri’s jacket, keeping him close even though Yuuri has no intention of moving away. It doesn’t feel like the first kiss they’ve shared in days (which it is). It feels like they’re picking up from something they left off months ago. It’s been literal _months_ since their last day-off. If they don’t have sex right this very instant, they’re going to die of old age and/or exhaustion before they ever have sex again.

It’s competition season. That’s why they’d both gone out for an early morning run, because even their off-days were mired in discipline and routine. Still, there are a few weeks until the next round of qualifiers, so Yuuri can afford to have a few extra aches and pains tomorrow. They’ll probably heal up before he has to compete again, and even if they don’t, he _doesn’t care_. It’s been too long since he’s made love to his husband, and he’s had enough of the physical separation.

Viktor’s thinking along the same lines, if the way he’s kissing Yuuri is anything to go by. The strength of Viktor’s hold on Yuuri’s collar makes it feel like he has no intention of breaking the kiss anytime soon. They keep at it, tangling their tongues and teeth until they’re both gasping for air. Viktor tastes like sports drink and toothpaste and Yuuri tries to commit the flavour to memory.

“Shower?” Yuuri manages to ask when Viktor finally breaks the kiss. They’re both sweaty from the run and neither Yuuri nor Viktor had bothered taking off their thick jackets once they got in; there had been more important things to focus on, like touching and kissing and holding.  

Viktor considers it. “On one hand,” he says, unfairly coherent, though the rapid pulse of his heart gives him away, “that sounds really nice.” It does. Yuuri thinks about having a shower with Viktor, miles and miles of warm, wet skin on display, there for the touching, and Viktor’s curious, soapy hands all over his own body. It’s enough to send a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“On the other hand,” Viktor continues, pulling Yuuri out of the burgeoning fantasy with a hand sliding down his side, onto his lower back, “we’re just going to get dirty again.” He punctuates his words with a sinuous twist of his hips, grinding his erection against Yuuri’s own, making both of them twitch and shudder.

“No shower,” Yuuri pants, because words are evading him and he doesn’t care. He pulls off his jacket and then his sweat-soaked t-shirt, and Viktor follows suit. There’s no attempt at undressing each other, because while that’s a favourite, normally, it takes too much time for them to get naked like that. This way is just more efficient, and Yuuri might actually die if he doesn’t get his hands on Viktor’s body soon.

The next thing he knows, Viktor’s hands are in his hair, hauling him in for another kiss while they stumble to the bed. Yuuri doesn’t bother spreading anything on the sheets before he pushes Viktor onto the mattress and crawls after him. The sheets can be washed, or burned for all he cares - none of that matters now.

Viktor’s body is flawless. There’s nothing about him that’s not perfect. He’s lean and tall and cut like he’s made from marble, and everything is just smooth and warm and firm beneath Yuuri’s hands. Yuuri knows he’s much less attractive, with his hair and stretchmarks and general-lack-of-perfection, but Viktor has never complained, and that’s what matters.

From his position on top of Viktor’s body, Yuuri puts his hands on Viktor’s hips and holds him in place, trusting Viktor to prop him up in case he loses balance. The point of contact makes it much easier for him to grind his own hips against Viktor’s, cocks dragging roughly against each other, making them both hiss with pleasure. It’s rough and there’s not much finesse, but there’s something addictive about the raw and imperfect pleasure of their movement. Not every stroke is on point, but it’s like they’re climbing some sort of crest, together.

“I want you to fuck me,” Viktor says, after a moment of frenzied movement. Yuuri isn’t sure he can hold on much longer, but he’s not about to turn his lover down. Not when it’s been so long since the last time. Not when it’s something he wants so badly, himself.

“Now or later?” Yuuri asks instead, because that’s a much more reasonable question.

“ _Now_ ,” Viktor yowls and bucks his hips upwards, insistent and needy, and Yuuri can’t help but love him. From the next room, Makkachin barks and it makes Yuuri snort. Still, he complies with Viktor’s demand, letting his fingers drag against Viktor’s skin as he gets up to find the lube. Unfortunately, it’s been a while, and what should have been the quickest errand turns into a more intensive hunt when Yuuri can’t find their familiar half-used bottle of lube anywhere in the room.

Viktor’s no help, lying there and touching himself, being unfairly pretty and generally driving Yuuri to distraction. His hair is spread out behind him like a silver halo, and he looks a little bit like a debauched angel lying there on their bed. It takes every ounce of self-control for Yuuri to not give up his quest for lubricant and just touch him, with his hands or his mouth or anything else.

When Viktor starts moaning, Yuuri gives up on looking in the bedroom all together. He might cry if he has to watch Viktor touch himself without interfering. He knows there’s a new bottle of lube in the linen cupboard in the hallway. He’s only gone for a minute, a minute-and-a-half, tops.

When he gets back to the bedroom with an unopened bottle of lube in his hand, it’s too late. Viktor is lying in bed, still stark naked, sound asleep.

Yuuri can’t help but laugh.

His husband looks ridiculous with his hand splayed across his groin, and his legs spread apart, hanging off the edge of the mattress. In sleep, what should be obscene only looks endearing, and Yuuri has the sudden urge to push Viktor’s legs together and cover him up with a soft blanket. Yuuri himself is still raring to go, but the arousal is only barely enough to cover the exhaustion aching deep inside his bones. It’s not surprising that Viktor fell asleep; he must have been doubly tired from training Yuuri and planning his own routine at the same time.

He’s missed his husband, but Yuuri is less upset than he thinks he should be. He’s actually at peace. He’s tired too, and now that he’s not kissing Viktor, he can’t stop yawning. All of a sudden, the bed looks terribly inviting, and a vision of curling up against Viktor’s naked body flashes through Yuuri’s mind, making him smile.

After a moment, Yuuri abandons the unopened bottle of lube on a bedside table and crawls into bed with Viktor. He pulls the duvet around their bodies and tucks it around Viktor's sides. Viktor is as warm and as comfortable as Yuuri remembers, and Yuuri’s head still rests perfectly on his shoulder, even though he’s sleeping. It’s such a perfect moment that Yuuri feels his defences crumbling, the last remaining inches of self-consciousness easing away, tiredness seeping in to replace it. It’s been a long couple of months, and Yuuri has missed this; just sleeping with his husband, skin-to-skin.

The last thought Yuuri has before he drifts off is that this is a pretty good way to spend a day off, even if it hadn’t exactly gone as planned.

**Author's Note:**

> *jazz hands* I still don't know what I'm doing, and I'm so tired. Comments and Kudos keep me alive.


End file.
